Nuclear Winter
by NeroFirst
Summary: Actually an original work, very similar to fallout. No particular story, follows the adventures of Michael through mid-nuclear winter Russia. No really detailed description of Michael to leave it up to the readers imagination. Violence, language, gore.


**Nuclear Winter**

Michael trudged through the knee-high snow, using his old and battered .35mm bolt-action rifle as a walking stick to help him along as a blizzard brewed, blowing snow into his face as he stopped to pull his scarf up higher to cover his nose and clean off his goggles with his thick frozen gloves, his fur lined hood blowing in the strong winds. As he looked around fighting the strong wind he stuck his hand in his coat pocket and pulled out six bullets, a small pocket knife and four coins then shoves them back in his pocket and swore under his breathe and started making his way through the snow again.

As Michael made his way through the deep snow he heard something walking through the snow, it sounded big, and he heard smaller foot steps with it, he looked around and figured out which way the noise was coming from and knelt down in the snow and looked through the iron-sights of his rifle, waiting for what he suspected to be a bear cub and it's mother to come over the hill. As he looked at the hill, waiting for the bears to come up he started to hear what sounded like metal hitting metal and he looked up from the rifle curiously as he saw a long haired ox come over the hill pulling a waggon behind it with a trader walking next to it, the clanging noise coming from metal supplies on the ox's back. Michael stood up and walked over to the trader and looked at him and his ox and said, "anything for sale today?"

The trader nodded and said, "Oh yes, we have many things for you, many things, come have a look, please, please come." The trader had an accent showing he was from a different place, most likely to the south in India or to the southwest in the middle east. As the trader spoke he turned and beckoned Michael to follow him into the waggon the ox was pulling behind it. The waggon was made of thick wood and had a wood burning oven inside to keep it warm. It was full of different wares and supplies, the walls lined with everything from toys and furs to weapons and food and the trader turned to Michael and smiled and said, "pick, we sell for cheap."

Michael looked around at the price tags made from old torn paper hanging from the products then sighed and said, "Listen, I can't afford any of this, I only have four coins, so you're going to give me that rifle and all the .35 ammo you have, along with all the food I can carry and your money." As he spoke he raised his rifle and aimed it at the trader who raised his hands and got down on his knees.

As the trader knelt down he said, "yes, okay, take anything you like." as he watched Michael rummage through the waggon and take all the ammunition and money he could find into his bag along with some food and fur and then picked up the other rifle and left the waggon, running through the snow, the wind flinging his hood off his head as he ran and frantically wiped the snow off his goggles until he was safely into the treeline where the ox couldn't get to. Michael sat down and leaned against a tree as he breathed heavily and set down his bag and looked at the two rifles. After examining the rifles he took both apart and swapped all the broken parts for better ones until his rifle was fully repaired and he had a heap of broken parts sitting in front of him.

As Michael sorted out all the parts to find any good ones to use as spares or sell in a crisis the wind picked up and blew the falling snow with more force. Michael pulled his hood up again as he growled slightly. "Shit, it's at least 8 hours to town, I'm not going to make it before the blizzard kills me, I should have killed that fucking trader, I could have taken his waggon and everything in it and I'd be set for life, I'm so fucking stupid." he mumbled to himself as he stood up and put the spare parts in his bag and slung it over his shoulder and picked up his rifle and started walking toward town as he kept an eye out for anyone that could help as the snow and wind froze over his coat and goggles making it hard to see as he hurried toward town, hoping he'd get there before the blizzard killed him.


End file.
